To Visit Mrs King

As a three year old child
I was a fascinated little thing
and while on holiday with my family in Connemara
we visited an old lady
Mrs King
Perhaps we bought some bread from her
I´m not so sure
I know she had a barrel of seaweed
outside her door

and there were fuschia bushes growing wild
all about the place
(The rest is washed out and faded,
I can´t remember her face)

and I remember she told my parents
that all of her children
perhaps twelve or more
had emigrated to America
and she never heard from them
ever again
and I was devastated for her
so the next morning I awoke
while everybody slept
and I took off down the road
self dressed,
back to front and inside out…
to visit Mrs King
to comfort her
for time had kept her waiting
so I showed up
and at three years of age
I sat by her table and babbled on
while she gave me a cup of tea
and chocolate sprinkles
as my parents searched wildly
about the vicinity of the North Atlantic coast
looking for me

and many spanks and years later
I still remember her
and have travelled back to her house
time and time again to comfort her
like a friendly ghost
in search of tea and sprinkles.